


A Midsummer Night's Siege

by grizzly_bear_bane



Category: Dark Knight Rises (2012), Inception (2010)
Genre: AT LAST A FIC THAT ISN'T ANGST O_O, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse, Arthur is one scary intimidating omega, Even Bane is a little scared, Feudal Gotham City Boroughs, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Poor alphas, Porn With Plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-15
Updated: 2014-02-15
Packaged: 2018-01-12 09:12:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1184470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grizzly_bear_bane/pseuds/grizzly_bear_bane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by Shakespeare's 'Midsummer Night's Dream,' Arthur and John are both destined for treaty marriages, but they have yet to bond with their alphas no matter how hard Bane and Eames try. </p><p>Eames is nice to John but intimidated by Arthur. Bane isn't sure how to dominate an omega so quick to put a knife to Bane's throat. </p><p>Secretly, John really, really likes Bane’s scent, and Eames really, really likes Arthur's, except Arthur doesn’t want ANYBODY touching him or his little brother.</p><p>Joker and Scarecrow have a different idea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Midsummer Night's Siege

**Author's Note:**

  * For [curiousloveable](https://archiveofourown.org/users/curiousloveable/gifts).



> Enjoy!

++++

++

 

The sharp click of Arthur’s boots echoed off the expansive penthouse walls as the afternoon sun shined brightly over Gotham.

His uncle’s policemen scattered when he turned each corner and a guard trailed carefully behind, but he barely noticed. He was looking for John.

He was pissed, and long past losing his patience. If he couldn’t find his brother in the next four seconds, he was going to punch the guard out.

He stopped short when he passed the open door of the study housing all their family’s war heirlooms. The guard nearly walked into his back. Arthur sighed irritably, his brow arched in question at the incompetent man.

When the nervous guard muttered an apology and stepped back, Arthur turned to his brother, shutting the study door behind him for blessed privacy.

John sat on a windowsill in the corner, with a helmet from an ancient suit of armor in his lap. He was looking out over the city with longing.

It gave Arthur a bit of pause. He was hoping his temper could have helped propel him through this conversation, but… the very last thing he wanted to see after such a terrible morning was the reaction he knew his younger brother was sure to have when he received the news.

Arthur cleared his throat and toyed with a cufflink as he walked over.

John still had yet to look up at Arthur leaning on the wall, his arms crossed as if John were in trouble for something. “Are you going to tell me to stop getting fingerprints all over uncle Peter’s precious collection or…” He was surprised when Arthur picked up a gauntlet and held it to his chest, mirroring him. “So the meeting didn’t go so good, huh?”

Arthur gazed out over the city. Smoke plumes were still rising up in clusters here and there, peeking up between skyscrapers. Bane and his men were getting close. It would be any day now.

He filled his chest with air. “Bruce is gone.”

John glanced up, filled with sadness. “You mean, like…”

“We don’t know, but let’s face it, it’s been nearly a week since he went up against Bane, and Wayne Manor’s been taken.”

“Arthur, I’m sorry.” What could he say? John moved over, but Arthur waved off his offer to sit next to him. “So, what does that mean exactly? What’s the next move?”

“As of now… uncle Peter’s illness is shutting him down and the Commissioner thinks that neither of us should “trouble” him, so he’s barred us from his rooms. _And_ ,” he cut across the anger spilling from John’s mouth, “and, Gordon wants to negotiate—”

John stood up, his anger now overflowing. “Arthur. No. He can’t do that. The committee can’t. The treaty with Wayne was agreed on eight years ago, long before there was even a threat of a siege.”

“And in eight years, he and I never bonded, never had even one hint that we might possibly be able to produce an heir that would finally unify the boroughs—not that it matters anymore, since Bane’s forces have sacked every borough except this one.”

“But, what if Bruce comes back? What if you and he end up bonding after all?”

Arthur shook his head. “If it only worked that way, John, but it doesn’t.”

John paced the floor. “This is crazy. We should have been out there, fighting.” He waved his hand at the window. “No wonder we’re losing. If uncle Peter had listened to us instead of the old men running the committee, _we_ would be in charge now. The siege would have never made it this far and even so, we could have at least crippled Bane’s forces enough until the Waynes’ took him down.”

“But even with our uncle’s good intensions, he’s weak. The others would have mutinied if he picked two omegas over his counsel of ancient betas.”

“Yeah, and look what good that did. Gordon’s running us all into the ground. He’s practically doing Bane’s work for him.”

Arthur agreed. “They’re all scared.”

“If Gordon followed your attack plan, and let me lead the police like he knows I can—”

“Oh, but _that’s_ crazy, John.” Arthur’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “How could little precious omegas know anything about conflict resolution or defeating a warlord? Not that we’ve passed all expectations, even our uncle’s, or anything, but we’ve got to leave this up to the big strong alphas—wherever they’re hiding, that is.”

“Like that alpha you humiliated in front of the entire police foundation dinner last month?”

“That’s not very funny, John. I broke his arm. He almost cried.”

“He _did_ cry.”

“Don’t be silly. Alphas don’t cry.” He could barely contain his grin. “Omegas though, we cry all the time. We’re very fragile.”

“Definitely. I’m crying right now,” John answered matter-of-factly.

Arthur cuffed his elbow teasing, a little smile slipping through, but his heart was heavy again. “No, all that training we did was just to keep us busy while uncle Peter found me a suitor. All that training and yet, an omega’s only purpose in life is to pop out a snotty nosed little shit who hopefully isn’t another omega—and apparently, I can’t even do that properly if these years with Bruce mean anything.” He couldn’t hide his sneer fast enough. He frowned at the floor.

John frowned back. Arthur hated the very idea of kids, of getting pregnant, of even mating. It was clear to most people who crossed his path that Arthur was an alpha trapped in an omega’s body. Despite that, John would be dumb not to see that the possibility that his brother might not be physically capable of having children still stung Arthur. “What do we do now? Is Gordon going to hand you over to Bane as a fucking peace offering?”

Arthur ran a hand through his curling hair, eyes returned on the horizon. “Bane _is_ an unbonded alpha… It’s the easiest and most cost effective move, considering.”

John stared at him deadpan. “That’s assuming Gordon’s right and Bane won’t actually just ignore a treaty and storm the place anyways and…” His words caught in his throat. “Arthur, what if he hurts you?”

“I’d cut off his hands first. But… John… that isn’t all of it.” His hand was back at his cufflink again. “Sit down.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not in the mood to pick you up off the floor.”

“Perfect,” his brother sighed. “How silly that I thought this story couldn’t get any better.”

“Just remember that I had no say in this. I was basically only there to keep a seat warm, but I did fight as hard as I could.”

His brother frowned, not liking where this was going already. “Arthur?”

“Bane has a brother. They’re only a handful of years apart, a little more so than we are, but… he’s been working more behind the scenes, which is probably why we’ve never seen him before. I can tell you at least, that they _definitely_ haven’t been putting the pretty sibling in front of the cameras. This Eames is…quite attractive…”

John didn’t understand until a full minute of Arthur staring back at him, his expression growing more and more pained by the second.

“John,” Arthur stressed again, “just remember you aren’t going to be pushed to produce an heir—not yet at least. Eames is only in charge of a small collection of boroughs near here; Bane is still the one the treaty’s made for, but… You and Eames will just…” He tried to explain with his hands, but found himself tongue-tied.

Outside the study, several maids and guards paused when they heard John’s yelling and the crashing of several suits of armor.

Arthur didn’t get to punch the hovering guard after all. He actually felt sorry for the unconscious man when two other guards had to carry him away to the infirmary downstairs.

It didn’t stop Arthur from being proud of John. His little brother’s right hook was legendary.

+

 

Eames grunted when Bane and his men arrived in their military tumblers. Bane stepped out in his normal weathered coat and worn boots, his kneepads dirtied from years of conquest.

“Couldn’t think of any better attire for this, could we, Bane?” Eames stood in front of his own men, all pressed and cleaned in their best fatigues. He grinned like the Cheshire cat when Bane strutted past him and into the high-rise, a small band of his mercenaries following like a pack of mangy wolves.

Bane was on a mission, Eames knew, and had no time for his brother’s banter. They’d heard stories of the two sharp-teethed omegas, whose family had run this borough for several generations. Eames was more than a little nervous for them; Bane wasn’t a man to tolerate anyone wearing on his patience. The only reason why Eames was still breathing had everything to do with being his little baby brother and nothing to do with Bane being nice. He wasn’t nice, he was a brute. No rumors of militarized omegas would scare him off; in fact, the prospect of breeding an omega with a reputation like Arthur’s only had Bane feeling all the more eager to start producing fire-breathing heirs at once. Eames definitely felt sorry for Arthur. Eames loved Bane, and would die for him, but even he knew that John would be the lucky one out of the two siblings.

He followed Bane into the lavish building, his brows raised at the polished tiles, the marble columns, and golden embroideries. If the lobby was this opulent, he couldn’t imagine what the penthouse floors looked like. He glanced over at Bane as they entered the elevator. Poor Bane looked as ever like a fish out of water.

It hit Eames suddenly that his hulking brother’s silence might be from his own nerves. Eames himself had had plenty of practice throughout the years with men and women here and there though thankfully none of them wanted to bond. And he hadn’t gotten the short end of the stick like Bane had as a child, separated and cast into the pit. Eames had had a relatively normal life, but Bane might as well have been from another planet. Eames had no clue if the man even knew what to do with a knot let alone sex in general. Eames couldn’t help wincing just at the thought. Poor, _poor_ Arthur, indeed.

“Don’t worry, Bane” he teased, “You’ll get to redecorate this place the second the treaty’s signed.”

Bane chuckled behind his mask and grabbed his brother by the scruff in a fond way, enough to make Eames grimace and try to wiggle out from under his threatening hand, but with no luck.

He was still massaging his sore neck when they reached the penthouse. They had both been in and out of all the various high-rises and manors littering the Gotham boroughs, but it was an understatement to say this place was laid out like a palace. Even the maids’ conservative uniforms looked expensive as they ushered Eames and Bane into the committee room with scared, downcast eyes.

Two seats waited for them at the head of the large table, each side flanked by older, tired looking men in dull suits. On the other end, Arthur and John looked ready for a fight, one in a crisp black suit and the other in a black military uniform.

Bane and Eames both paused as everyone but the two omegas stood. They were lovely; that rumor was certainly true, and there was definitely fire in those eyes.

Only, it was hard to tell who was who. Arthur and John were nearly identical. However, only one of them was a true submissive and he certainly wasn’t the one glaring at Bane liked he’d strapped a bomb to the underside of Bane’s chair.

Arthur took a deep, calming breath and stood with the air of a king, but before he could open his mouth, an older man stood and cut him off at the side of the table closest to Bane.

“Sit, Arthur,” the man said, turning to their guests. “Bane. General Eames.”

“Commissioner Gordon,” Bane greeted, his hand engulfing the man’s.

Eames didn’t miss Arthur and John’s quick smirks when Gordon and the rest of the betas flinched at Bane’s voice, tripping over each other to introduce themselves and their respective ranks to their new leader.

Bane waved off the rest, eyes piercing Gordon with a weight that forced the man to take his seat again. Realizing that there wasn’t a need for formalities with Bane in charge, Eames left his side to wander the large room, taking in the walls’ paintings, the bookshelves, the view from the floor to ceiling windows, and of course the viper omegas.

“Now, Commissioner,” Bane said, “what parameters do you wish to set for this treaty?”

Ever polite, Bane was, but Eames knew he was playing with them. The omegas seemed to anticipate this as well.

Gordon cleared his throat. “Our request is that you allow us all to maintain our duties here in exchange for a future alliance. We—”

“I understand your need to stay in charge of this borough,” Bane nodded, “however—”

To everyone’s surprise, Arthur rose from the table again with a bored sigh and walked to the window, ignoring the panicked looks from the elders. John’s eyes darted back from Arthur to Bane, who’d paused midsentence to watch Arthur with an unamused glint in his eyes.

“Bane, sir, you’ll have to forgive our Arthur,” Gordon explained. “He often forgets his place.”

“And what place would that be, _Mr_. Gordon?” Arthur didn’t bother to look back when the elders gasped again. He was sure Gordon hadn’t been called anything other than Commissioner or sir for years. Arthur shook his head, looking down at Bane and Eames’ troops and the tumblers lining the streets below. “You’ll have to forgive the good Commissioner,” he turned, arms crossed. “He and the board seem to think that they can coddle you into a corner like you’re an unruly child.”

“Arthur,” the Deputy Commissioner hissed, rising from his seat as well, but he was halted when Bane’s eyes flashed his way then back to Arthur.

“Mr. Foley,” Arthur continued, “I think you and Gordon have both fought in enough territory wars to know when you’re defeated, and we are, as of now, truly defeated. The committee’s requests are ridiculous. Even I know these two men aren’t here in _your_ favor. Please stop insulting them.”

Bane laced his fingers, brow raised in interest. “And what then might your own request be, Arthur?”

“Only that you and your brother agree not to harm John or me, and that your men don’t endanger the members of this household and borough as well.”

Foley sputtered. “But what about us?”

“None of you are omegas, Mr. Foley,” Arthur responded, eyes wide with feigned innocence. “You should all be just fine.”

The committee looked positively ruffled but Bane waved a hand at them, already bored with their attempts to save face after being so shamed by an omega.

“Leave us,” Bane commanded, his eyes still on Arthur. “Not you.”

John pause when Bane called after him and turn to stand near his brother. Bane glanced at Eames to shut the door behind the last of the betas.

Eames couldn’t help but break the silence that followed with a hearty chuckle. Perhaps he’d underestimated Arthur after all.

+

 

 


End file.
